


The Brown Girl

by LadyRhiyana



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Age Difference, Book: Fire and Blood, F/M, Gen, May/December Relationship, The Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRhiyana/pseuds/LadyRhiyana
Summary: "The singers say that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side."
Relationships: Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Nettles "Netty"/Daemon Targaryen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	The Brown Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Some quotes and phrases have been drawn directly from Fire and Blood.

Nettles has heard all the stories.

For all her life, he’s been a grand figure looming large in her imagination: Prince Daemon Targaryen, rider of red Caraxes. Knighted at age 16, given Dark Sister by the Old King himself in recognition of his prowess. Master of the City Watch, self-styled King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea; a hot-blooded, quarrelsome prince, restless and ambitious and larger than life.

He is the Queen’s husband, and her uncle. They say that he is both her greatest support and greatest weakness, for during the course of his adventures he had made more foes than friends –

“Well, girl?” he asks, impatient. “Are you ready?”

Nettles starts. “Your Grace?”

“We are for Maidenpool,” he says. “To hunt for Prince Aemond One-Eye.”

He eyes her askance. Nettles knows what he sees: a skinny brown bastard girl, tangled black hair and scarred nose, with none of the beauty of Old Valyria. But she had tamed the dragon Sheepstealer nonetheless, with her own wits and courage had raised herself from nothing to a dragonrider in Queen Rhaenyra’s army.

And now she is to fly beside Prince Daemon himself.

**

At Maidenpool, she is by his side day and night. Prince Aemond’s dragon is great Vhagar, the ancient mount of Visenya Targaryen – individually, neither Sheepstealer nor Caraxes has any chance against him. They fly together every morning, climbing high above the Riverlands in ever-widening circles, always within each other’s reach – always nearby, in sky and in castle.

They spend almost all their time together. They eat together, fly together, and bathe together – _you stink of dragon, girl,_ he tells her, _have you never learned to use soap and water?_ – and soon enough they lie together, though he is nearing fifty and she only ten and seven.

He is a royal prince. The Queen’s consort. And she is no more than a bastard street rat, homeless, motherless and penniless before she dared to dream of dragonflight.

But they lie together, all the same.

**

It can’t last forever. Rumours spread, and the smallfolk begin to speak of the romance of the prince and the brown girl, Nettles.

When the maester of Maidenpool shows Prince Daemon a letter from the Queen, she sees the joy go out of his eyes, a sadness descend on him.

“What’s in the letter?” she asks.

He crushes the parchment in his fist. “A queen’s words,” he says, “and a whore’s work.”

The Queen had ordered Lord Mooton, their host, to seize Nettles and strike off her head.

“You must go,” Prince Daemon says. “I cannot protect you from her, if you stay.”

As Sheepstealer beats his leathery wings and climbs into the dawn sky, bearing her away, Caraxes raises his head and gives a scream that shatters every window in Jonquil’s tower.

Nettles wishes she, too, could scream and cry.

She turns her dragon towards the Bay of Crabs and vanishes into the morning mists.

**

 _Will I ever see you again?_ she asks, in the last moment before parting. 

_Perhaps,_ he says. _If I survive_.

**

The tale of his grand and terrible end – of his great battle against Prince Aemond and Vhagar – spreads like wildfire across the Seven Kingdoms and beyond.

High, high into the clouds they flew, above the vast expanse of the God’s Eye. Caraxes had slammed into Vhagar from above, and locked together, the dragons tumbled towards the lake which rushed up at terrible speed. Just before they crashed into the water, Prince Daemon swung his leg over the saddle and jumped onto Vhagar’s back, plunging Dark Sister into Prince Aemond’s eye –

Vhagar died on impact, dragging Prince Aemond’s body – and Dark Sister – down, down into the depths of the lake. Caraxes lived only long enough to drag himself to shore.

Prince Daemon’s body was never found.

 _But there are queer currents in the God’s Eye,_ the smallfolk say. _Who knows? Mayhap he survived, and afterward made his way back to Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side._

**

Far away from King’s Landing, from the war-torn Riverlands, there is a cottage in the woods where a ragged woman lives, dirty and skinny, her only companion an ugly brown dragon.

Long months after Prince Aemond’s fall, after great Vhagar’s death, hoofbeats sound in the gathering twilight and a lone horseman rides slowly along the narrow forest path.

The dragon raises its head and makes a welcoming noise.

After a moment the woman emerges to stand by her door, holding aloft a lamp.

He is pale and drawn, the lines on his face graven deeper than she remembers. There is little of the proud royal prince left.

But he smiles when he sees her – that old, familiar smile, crooked and ironic.

“Well, girl?” he asks. “Have you nothing to say?”

She smiles.

“Welcome home,” she says, blinking away tears.


End file.
